Distinction
by SGAFan
Summary: Missing scene for Critical Mass. Teyla has lost the last person she could call family. In helping her through her pain, John resolves an issue that has been troubling him.


_**Distinction**_

_Missing scene for Critical Mass_

The infirmary wasn't his first stop. Not by a long shot. He sighed. After dealing with the Trust, Caldwell being a Goa'uld, almost losing Atlantis to a ZPM overload, not to mention nearly blowing their cover with the Wraith, John honestly couldn't credit anything but luck for the fact that they were still here. He paused on the infirmary threshold, a flicker of irritation passing through him. Sure, he felt fortunate they all were still here, and the city was in one piece, but John didn't like trusting his fate, and the fate of those he was obligated to protect, to luck. And, absorbed in everything they'd gone through, he hadn't been aware of the personal loss Teyla had been facing.

It'd been Elizabeth's idea, really, to see if Carson knew where Teyla was. John shook his head. He hadn't seen Teyla in hours, and when he'd tried to raise her on the radio, he'd been met with silence. Her quarters had been a bust too and now, coming up empty in the infirmary, John's interest had rapidly grown into concern.

He started down the hallway away from the infirmary, his pace slow as he considered his options. Carson, although sincere, hadn't been much help.

_"She saw to the final arrangements for Charin. She's going to be buried on the mainland. But I haven't seen Teyla since." Carson sighed. "She hid it well, but I think she was pretty upset."' _

Quietly, in the background, Teyla had lost the last person she could call family. John had met Charin, he'd talked to her and to him it had been clear that Charin had loved Teyla very much. Although Teyla had never spoken of it, John could tell that she had shared that deep bond. Her reclusive behavior bothered him, but John suspected it reflected the level of pain Teyla was experiencing.

His gaze unconsciously turned towards the West Pier. He headed towards the nearest transporter, his slow stride turning purposeful. One thing he'd come to learn about Teyla –often with the wounded pride and bruised ribs to prove it – was that, when the stresses of Atlantis got to her, more often than not she could be found working them out in the gym.

He stepped into the transporter and tapped the map point on the West Pier. Only a moment later, he strode down the hallway towards the gym. Confidently passing his hand over the door crystal, he stepped inside.

His smile faded as an empty room greeted him. "Damn it," he muttered, "Where the hell are you?" The concern within him mounted. Had he not been so worried, he could just about guarantee he'd be pretty irritated at the wild goose chase his Athosian team member was leading him on. But everything about this, from not answering her radio to being next to impossible to find, worried John. If he had to turn the city upside down, he was going to track Teyla down.

He turned, left the gym and stalked back to the transporter. He stared at the schematic of the city, which remained patiently lit, waiting for him to input a destination.

He pursed his lips. "If I were Teyla, where would I be?" he wondered aloud. After a moment's hesitation, he punched a location in the East Pier. Set as a staging area for the Athosians while they waited to be shuttled back to the mainland, John considered it a likely place to find Teyla… or at least someone who had seen her.

He didn't have to go far before his gaze met that of a dark-haired Athosian woman standing in the hallway talking to two youths. A long time friend of Teyla's, Renna was someone John had encountered a few times on the mainland. He nodded slightly as she inclined her head in recognition.

"Colonel, is there word on when we will be returning to the mainland?" Renna's voice carried a light, pleasant tone.

He arched his brows. "Actually, that's part of the reason I'm here. I need Teyla to help organize shuttling your people, but I don't know where she is."

Renna looked away, her expression hesitant. "Charin was close to her heart, Colonel."

John sighed. "I know. I just want…." He shook his head. "I couldn't reach her on the radio so I tried her quarters, the gym…" His tone turned cynical. "I feel like I've been over half the city." He shook his head. "It's not like her. I'm a little worried." His expression turned sincere as he locked gazes with Renna. "I just want to make sure she's okay."

Renna stared intensely at him for a moment before nodding slowly. "She would want to be alone, Colonel," Renna looked up at the close ceiling, "and outside the city." Her gaze returned to him. "Does that help?"

Realization dawned on John. "Yeah, it does. Thanks."

Renna inclined her head slightly. "You are welcome, Colonel."

John turned away, making a beeline for the transporter. Before too long, he was walking purposefully down a long corridor in the main tower of the city. He finally stopped in front of two tall exterior doors. The last time he'd been here, a few months before, he'd been surprised to find Teyla had already discovered the large, outdoor balcony. He could still see the tranquility the warm ocean air had brought her.

_"There are many outdoor spaces where one can enjoy the fresh air, but this one," Teyla pointed off into the horizon, "faces west towards the mainland. I feel connected to my people when I am here."_

He squinted as the doors parted and bright sunlight warmed his face. A gentle ocean breeze blew open his coat, while he looked around until he spotted Teyla standing on the far western corner. As he walked towards her, he noticed her tense stance and rigid back.

He stopped a few feet from her. Her senses were uncanny, and he knew she'd know he was there, but he cleared his throat anyway. "Teyla?" His gaze narrowed as her back straightened and she pulled in a deep breath.

"Colonel. Is there something you need from me?"

John pursed his lips at the air of sorrow he felt radiating from her. He dismissed the mundane business that had driven him to look for her in the first place in favor of something vastly more important. "How about turning around, for starters?" His gaze never left her as she dropped her head for a moment before slowly turning to face him.

John felt his sympathy rise, and knew his face showed it as he smiled slightly at her. "How are you holding up?"

Teyla cocked her head slightly. "Holding…?"

"Elizabeth told me about Charin," John interrupted her confused statement. "I'm sorry." John wrinkled his brow as the mention of Charin's name nearly broke the impassive mask Teyla wore.

She swallowed hard and blinked against full eyes as she nodded. "I am… fine, Colonel. Thank you." Her voice wavered slightly, the only fracture in her control.

John silently stared back at her for a moment. Deeply committed to her people, her values, and her way of life, the power of Teyla's character was as strong, or stronger than that of anyone John had ever met. In the year and a half he'd known her, he'd come to admire Teyla's quiet, inner strength. She knew how to bury her own emotions for the good of those around her. At this moment, John knew her stance was no different. He was familiar with the controlled expression that faced him. Rarely did he ever see it crack. But, through that careful barrier, hints of pain and sorrow escaped her control, and John realized how deeply the hurt ran within her.

He stared intently at her. "We're off the clock, Teyla," he looked around, "and alone. You can drop the act."

Teyla's arched an impassive eyebrow. "Colonel…?"

John waved his hand slightly. "You didn't answer your radio, and I've been all over half the city looking for you." He sighed. "That's not like you, Teyla."

A slight tinge of defensiveness fleeted across her expression, only to be buried by careful control. "I am fine, Colonel," she said abruptly.

John arched a brow. "Really? Then you're much stronger than I am."

"Colonel, I do not think…." Teyla's voice was rushed, but John cut her off.

"Did I ever tell you about my grandfather? My mother's father?" A wistful expression crossed John's face. "With my dad being career military, I spent a lot of time on my grandparents' ranch. Grandpa and I were close." John once again stared intently at Teyla. He arched a humorless eyebrow at her. "I had a hard time when he died." He punctuated every word with a pause, his brow wrinkling slightly as his gaze turned imploring.

Compassion turned his expression sympathetic as Teyla's eyes filled with tears and she pulled in a shuddering breath. John shook his head when she abruptly turned away from him. The light breeze ruffled her hair, and as she lifted an impatient hand to swipe it from her face, John noted the slight shake in her fingers. He silently stared at her rigid back.

"Charin was…," Teyla inhaled sharply, "family to me. Much like a grandmother, she cared for me, nurtured me when my mother was taken… and comforted me later when my father was taken. She was all I had left."

John remained silent as he watched her lean on the balcony railing, her grip white-knuckled.

"I… I was not ready for her to leave me. She told me my people are my family, but with her gone, I feel very… alone." Teyla's voice was strained, as if the admission was very difficult. "I should feel contentment for her. Not many of our people have peaceful deaths, but I do not. I only feel my own loss," Teyla's voice cracked, "and it is almost more than I can bear."

John's compassion redoubled as he stared at her. The pain and loss she felt was more than her carefully practiced control could handle… and without that control, Teyla didn't know how to cope. He sighed quietly. "Then stop trying to."

"Colonel, I do not…."

"Teyla," John interrupted firmly, "stop trying to control it. You lost your grandmother. You're entitled to be upset."

A loud, shuddering breath shook Teyla's shoulders. "I… I am alone, John…." A muffled sob ended her hard-won confession. She lifted one hand to her face as another sob escaped her, but she refused to turn around.

A moment of indecision gripped John. At a loss as to what to do for her, he just stared at her shuddering back while Teyla struggled to control her grief. Then, slowly, he reached out, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. He squeezed gently as Teyla braced both hands on the railing, losing her fight to stave off her grief. John brought his other hand up to her other shoulder and squeezed again. "Let it go, Teyla. Just let it out," he said quietly.

Another sob escaped Teyla, this one louder. John squeezed her shoulders again in response, his warm, strong grip giving silent support as Teyla's emotions burst through the dam that was her self-control. He shook his head at the pain he saw and heard from her, but, inside him, a small feeling of relief tempered his sympathy. She needed this, and part of him was glad he'd helped her see it.

After a few minutes, Teyla's crying quieted. She swiped a hand across her face as her breathing slowed.

When she turned towards him, John let go briefly, but once again rested his hands on her shoulders reassuringly now that she faced him. Fueled by concern, he cocked his head and looked down at her. "You okay?" he asked, gently.

Teyla refused to look at him, but she nodded slightly.

John sighed. "Charin was right. You do have your people…," his voice trailed off as he waited for her to look at him. When she did, he continued. "And, you have us." Again, he tightened his grip. "You're not alone, Teyla. You never are, okay?"

Teyla blinked hard. "Yes," her voice was barely above a whisper.

John let a small smile play at the corner of his mouth. "Good." He sighed once more. "Why don't you spend some time on the mainland with your people? Take as much time as you want. I think you could use it."

Teyla shook her head slightly. "I have an obligation to my people to be here on Atlantis, and with your team, Colonel…."

"Teyla," John chastised lightly.

She slowly looked up at him, blinking hard against her swollen eyes.

"We'll be okay without you. Take the time." His smile turned faintly playful. "Don't make me order you."

Slowly, the corners of Teyla's mouth turned upwards slightly. "Very well." She reached up, placed her hands on his shoulders and bowed her head.

John's smile deepened at the gesture, and he gently touched foreheads with her.

She stepped back, breaking his hold on her shoulders.

His respect for her renewed as she inhaled deeply, control returning to her expression and her demeanor. She nodded once at him, turned and headed for the door. He watched her go, his concern fading as her hesitant stride gradually grew more confident. A dozen feet away, she stopped, turned and stared at him.

"Thank you, John." Her voice was strong and sincere.

"You're welcome." John watched as she turned away and disappeared through the door.

Left alone on the balcony, John looked out over the ocean towards the distant mainland for a minute. His concern over Teyla ebbed and he found his thoughts turning to the ordeal the whole city had just endured. Elizabeth's prophetic words from earlier echoed in his head.

Here we are, gloating about infighting among the Wraith…. How are we any different?

He hadn't been able to answer her, and it grated on him. His thoughts turned back to the Wraith, drifting over the suicidal Darts that had destroyed themselves on Atlantis' shield, the self destructs all the Wraith carried… how easily they sacrificed themselves… each other…. John's racing mind roared to a stop as his thoughts turned back to Teyla… and Charin's death.

It meant something.

Through everything they'd faced in the last thirty-six hours – hell, since they set foot on Atlantis – each death… each loss of a friend, a loved one… a family member, impacted them, because it meant something.

Did death mean anything to the Wraith? John wasn't sure, but he felt, deep in his gut, it didn't mean the same as it did to him, to his people… to the human race.

And that was the difference.

John found within himself the distinction between them and the Wraith that his mind had sought, and he latched onto it. As they sunk further and further into conflict with the Wraith, into a struggle for their own existence, John had a foreboding that every value, every distinction he used to separate himself from the Wraith would be challenged… and he wasn't sure he'd like the outcome. But one thing he did know was that they all took death very seriously. It was never casually dismissed, easily accepted, or readily handed out, and that would never change. It couldn't change, because maybe, when all was said and done, that one unrelenting truth would define them.

Charin had lived a long life and died of old age, an act that alone stood in defiance of the Wraith. But now, even in death, her defiance continued. Through the memories and deep loss Teyla felt, Charin still strengthened that distinction between them and the Wraith.

His thoughts came full circle, as they once more settled on Teyla. He'd seen a glimpse of her today that he'd never seen before, and he felt the better for it. His deep respect for her only grew as time passed, and he learned more and more about her. He nodded to himself. He had no doubt she would be fine. She'd accepted Charin's death, but would never forget her… never dismiss Charin's life as anything less than meaningful. The distinction from the Wraith rang true… and Teyla lived it.

John sighed, wry amusement rising in him at the philosophical turn his thoughts had taken. "Definitely a MENSA," he muttered, dismissing them. Content, he turned and headed back into Atlantis.

_Author's Notes:_

_Teyla has always been so strong, not only for herself, but mostly for her people. But, even strong people need to let go of their control once in a while. _

_1. "Here we are, gloating about infighting among the Wraith…. How are we any different?" _

_Taken directly from the Atlantis episode Critical Mass, I don't own this line, but wish I did…I wish I could lay claim to that entire, fantastic, episode for that matter:)Weir's words stuck with me, as my first impulse was to say "We are different!" But, it took me a long time to figure out why. _

_As always, my sincerest thanks to TanaquiSGA for editing this story and for her directness in telling me "Nope. You're rambling. You need to tighten it up." ;) Thanks TS!_

_SGAFan_


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